Everest
by Wlfgrrl
Summary: After several years have passed, Buffy finally asks Faith "why".


**Everest**

**Rating**: PG-13

**Fandom:** Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel: the Series

**Pairing:** Buffy/Faith

**Disclaimer**_**:** The characters of Faith and Buffy belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. _

**A/N:**_ This story deals with relations between persons of the same gender (though not graphically). If this distresses you then I suggest you scram, shoo and/or skedaddle.  
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**A/N2: **_This was my very first fanfic, written way back at the end of BtVS season 4. As a result, loads of differences sprang up regarding the "Chosen Two's" history together. At the time of writing, no Dawn, no Glory, no Joyce death, no potentials, no surname for Faith, etc. As I work up the nerve to start writing again, I thought I'd post some of my previous stories here._

_I've also gone back in and made a more thorough beta effort. It needed it._

~.o.0.o.~

The petite blonde glanced at her watch for the fifth time in as many minutes. She was nervous, and it showed. She'd arrived early, needing the extra time to prepare herself, both mentally and emotionally, for the reunion that would soon be taking place. Part of her grudgingly recognized that by arriving first, she'd made the park bench her "territory". It was childish, but home-court advantage was always of the good, especially when it came to Faith. She turned her gaze back to the duck pond, smiling as she watched several small children throw breadcrumbs to the various waterfowl. Had she ever been that carefree? Had Faith? Somehow she doubted it... from what little she'd let slip, it had been evident to Buffy that her dark-haired counterpart had been dealing with monsters––both metaphorical and real––her entire life.

They hadn't seen each other in over three years, and the last time they'd spoken Buffy had threatened to beat the younger girl to death. She could still see the naked anguish that had been contained in the inky depths of Faith's eyes, hear just how broken and beaten the once proud Slayer had become when she'd pleaded, "Just tell me how to make it better." Buffy'd never had the chance to answer her, the Council had found them and she'd become more concerned with keeping them both alive. In retrospect, that was probably for the best. She'd been so blinded by rage that she'd probably have said something she'd later regret, after she'd had some time to cool off. That's definitely what had happened when she'd mentally replayed the fight she'd had with Angel that same night at the Police station. She'd wielded words like precision blades, cutting him where she knew it would cause him the most pain. Even now she winced at the memory. That night, Faith had been the mature one... the responsible one. She herself had behaved like a petulant child.

She was startled out of her musings when a black-clad figure sat gracefully down beside her.

"How ya doin', B? Long time, no see."

That throaty, husky, voice... like cigarettes and whiskey and whispered bedroom promises in the dark of night. It was as sexy as Buffy remembered and still made her heart skip a beat.

She closed her eyes for a moment, bracing herself, then turned her green-eyed gaze to meet that of the other half of "the Chosen Two."

She'd almost gasped aloud. The woman sitting casually beside her was even more beautiful than she'd remembered. She'd matured––they both had––but the passage of time had refined the brunette's features, brought her dark beauty into sharp focus. Her eyes were clear and sparkling, their color like sunlight through perfectly aged cognac. Buffy had rarely seen those eyes in daylight... she'd never before realized just how much gold glittered in their umber depths.

When she noted the amused half smile now dancing upon Faith's full lips, she shook herself out of her reverie, realizing belatedly that she hadn't yet returned the greeting.

"Hey, Faith," she said softly. "Thanks for coming. I wasn't sure if you would." She glanced nervously down at her hands, then back to those sparkling eyes. "You look... great." Buffy inwardly cringed at how lame that sounded to her own ears, but it was the truth.

"So do you, B... but then, I've never seen you look anything but." Faith had pivoted in her seat, allowing herself a more face-on view of her Sister Slayer. Her head rested lightly against the steepled fingers of her upraised left hand and, as she crossed one black, denim-clad leg over the other, she let her eyes trail over Buffy's features, drinking in her cool, Germanic beauty. It still made her heart ache. "Why'd you wanna see me?"

"I see you're still working on that whole 'diffidence' thing. You really should try to be more direct one of these days," Buffy responded in a deadpan voice.

Faith heaved a mock sigh and languidly rested the back of her hand against her forehead. In a flawless imitation of a Georgia drawl she replied, "Ah know, it's just _evah_ so hard when you're a delicate, hothouse flowah like me." Then her lips expanded into the crooked grin that Buffy remembered so well.

She burst into delighted laughter, undone by the mental image of Faith as a leather-clad Scarlett O'Hara. And when that image melted into one of her tossing a startled Rhett Butler over her shoulder and charging up the grand staircase of Tara, she lost it completely.

The brunette looked on in amusement as her companion fought back a fresh wave of giggles and brushed the laughter-induced tears from her cheek. It appeared to be a mighty struggle indeed for her to regain control of herself. Faith had a good idea what Buffy had envisioned, she well remembered just how much of a "visual thinker" B was. When it appeared that Buffy had finally mastered herself, Faith re-posed her question.

"Seriously, B... why'd you wanna see me? I've been out for almost a year; why now?"

Even though she'd confessed to three murders, the DA's office had been unable to gather enough evidence with which to make a case against Faith (a testament to the corrupt efficiency of the late Mayor, Richard Wilkins III). As a result, all they'd been able to charge her with were several cases of aggravated assault and petty theft. The judge in her case had stared in open-mouthed shock when she'd begged for a longer sentence than the one he'd given. He'd seen a lot in his years on the bench, but that had been a first. She'd earned parole after two years––ironically enough, for good behavior.

She'd put her time served to good use, earning her GED and attending the mandatory therapy sessions that had eventually taught her how to better control her temper and the resulting violent outbursts. It hadn't been easy, not by a long shot. She'd been forced to confront and deal with traumatic experiences that she'd sworn never to think about again; childhood abuse, molestation, neglect... at times she'd felt herself drowning in it all, pulled under by the sheer horror of her collective life experiences. The threats and dangers of prison life had seemed almost amusing in comparison. She had been in a few fights, but the other inmates had quickly learned that––despite her outward appearance––she was a force to be reckoned with. After witnessing how she disabled her opponents in seconds––leaving them with shattered wrists or elbows––the other cons soon learned to leave her alone.

In many ways, Faith had been reborn in prison, the proverbial phoenix rising from the smouldering ruin that was her past. She now lived and patrolled in L.A., helped Angel out as often as he needed her and held down a steady job in a local music store. It wasn't much but it paid the rent as well as kept her fed and clothed. The judicial system had failed to provide the punishment she knew she deserved, so her new life was dedicated to making at least some measure of amends. She could never fully atone for all that she had done and the faces of her victims would forever haunt her dreams but she was finally able to look at her own reflection without wanting to punch her fist through it. She'd found some peace and it showed.

Sobered by Faith's question, Buffy met her gaze for a long moment, then looked off to her left, not focusing on anything in particular as she considered her response. Her shoulders lifted slightly in a faint shrug, then she spoke once more.

"I honestly don't know," she began hesitantly. "I don't think I was ready before now... Still holding on to stupid grudges and being self-righteous 'brood girl', I guess."

"B... considering everything I did to you, I'm pretty sure any grudges you have fall firmly into the 'well deserved' category," Faith replied ruefully. "Unless, of course, it was some lame-assed grudge about me being a better dancer or having _way_ better fashion sense than you," she added with a mischievous smirk.

Buffy smiled at that and rolled her eyes. "You got me. I was always bitter about your _sweeping_ win of the 'Disco Dominatrix' title."

"I _knew_ it! But you got me back when you took the 'Jr. Pastel Princess'. I so wanted that one," Faith quipped with mock outrage. "I tap danced my ass off... I _deserved_ that tiara."

Buffy found herself giggling once more as another absurd visual appeared before her mind's eye. She reached over and playfully shoved Faith's knee. "Stop it! I'm trying to be all mature and... and dignified... and you keep making me laugh."

"Sorry, B. My shrink taught me that it's good to have goals, but maybe you should aim for something a bit more realistic than 'mature and dignified'." When this earned her a raised eyebrow and a pointed look, Faith lifted her hand in an apologetic gesture and continued, "I'm sorry... really. Defense mechanism. When I'm nervous I become a smart-ass. I'll behave now, scout's honor."

Buffy cast her a dubious look and noted, "You were never a scout."

"True. But I screwed a couple. That's gotta count for something, right? At least get me a merit badge."

Buffy shook her head in wonder. "You are utterly incapable of being serious, aren't you? Is this some mental defect I'm not aware of?"

The brunette gave her a long look, then shook her head sadly. "No, B... You've had first hand experience with all of my mental defects. Tends to leave ya fully aware when you learn that way." Her dark brows knit together and she looked nervously away. When their gazes locked once more, those soulful eyes burned with intensity. In a low voice, Faith continued, "I've never said it properly; hell, you threatened to beat me to death if I even tried and I'd have deserved it––but I want you to know, I truly am sorry, Buffy... for everything. You don't know how much I fucking wish I could go back and change it all, take it all back... but I can't. All I can do now is apologize and hope that some day, maybe, you can forgive me... even a little."

The blonde Slayer found herself gazing at her brunette counterpart in amazement. The breathtaking woman sitting beside her was a stranger. The Faith she knew would never have admitted fault, let alone apologized. The defensive, swaggering girl with the hair-trigger temper had vanished. The woman that had taken her place was open, calm and took full responsibility for everything that she'd done. Not too long ago, Buffy would have believed it all an act, a scam to get herself out of trouble. But she'd grown as well. There was just one thing she still wanted––_needed_––to know.

"Faith... I'm sorry, too. Nothing is ever all one person's fault and I know I was a self-absorbed bitch at times." She cut off the brunette's intended protestation with an upraised hand. "Please... let me finish. That year was one of the worst of my life. You know the whole sorry tale: having to kill Angel, running away, trying to get my life back in order only to have it blown all to hell when Angel returned from... well... Hell." She gave her head an irritated shake, then continued, "And you showed up, this force of nature that instantly captivated all of my friends, my Watcher... even my own Mother. I was _so_ jealous of you––yet just as captivated as the rest of them.

When we became friends it was so great. Finally, I had someone who _truly_ understood the whole Slayer gig. You never seemed to resent your calling, and through your eyes I learned to appreciate it a lot more than I had. We were good together, Faith, 'the Chosen Two'. The monsters never stood a chance against us. What happened to that? Finch's death was a horrible thing––one of the most traumatic experiences of my life. I can't even begin to imagine what it must have been like for you. I didn't handle it well at first. I know I flaked on you when you needed me most, but I tried to help... I _wanted_ to help. But you were gone––your body was there, but my _friend_ was gone. I didn't know you anymore. And when everything else happened, I found myself wondering if I ever really had. For so long I thought I hated you, but what I hated was that you _left_ me. I need to know..." A single tear broke from Buffy's left eye. "Why, Faith? Please tell me... why?"

The naked pain in those achingly beautiful green eyes struck her with the force of a sledgehammer. Faith closed her eyes and tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. 'Why'. That was the million-dollar question, wasn't it? How could she ever adequately explain 'why'?

For several long moments she said nothing and Buffy began to fear that she'd pushed her too far, too fast. Maybe she should have just left it alone, let the past stay firmly in the past. Their meeting had been going better than she could ever have dreamed––the old banter and ease falling effortlessly into place, Faith's new serenity giving her hope of a second chance, a friendship reborn. But now, the brunette had seemingly withdrawn, silently refusing to answer. Buffy was just about to speak again––tell her to forget it, this had been a mistake––when Faith's voice reached her ears. She'd almost missed it, she'd spoken so softly, but her Slayer enhanced hearing had caught a single word.

"Everest."

Buffy blinked in confusion.

Faith opened her eyes and stared off across the park, obviously focused on some internal rather than external horizon. Her expression was peaceful... thoughtful... and alight with some epiphany. That husky voice broke the silence once more, stronger now.

"When I was inside I had a lot of time to think. And when I couldn't stand hearing my fucked up thoughts I would read. Needless to say, I spent a _lot_ of time reading," she said, with a hint of a rueful smile. "When I was a kid I'd always dreamt of being an explorer... always on the move, seeing the world and having adventures that would make 'Indiana Jones' look like a pussy. But then I got picked to be the alternate for the Slayer-squad and that pretty much ended my intention of being all, 'Faith Croft, Tomb-Raider-extraordinaire'. Reading about all of those exotic and exciting places was the only way I was ever gonna get to experience them... so I did. I've been all around the world that way, shared in some kick-ass adventures and learned a lot about myself through other people's words."

Again she hesitated and Buffy subconsciously held her breath, afraid to break the mood. She slowly expelled it when Faith resumed speaking.

"There was one adventure that just flat out puzzled me more than any other: Mt. Everest. I just didn't get why so many people would chuck their lives away trying to get to the top of some frozen, big-assed mountain. What was so fucking amazing about it? For every five people that make it to the top, one dies. Those are some downright _shitty_ odds when we're talking life and death, so why do it? And I didn't wanna hear any 'cos it's there' crap, either. So, I read everything I could find, tried to get into their heads and understand.

I learned that Everest isn't just a mountain. It's alive... sacred. The Nepalese call her _Sagarmatha_, 'the Goddess of the Sky.' To the Tibetans, she's _Chomolungma_, 'Mother Goddess of the Universe.' She's _it_... the be all and end all, 'cos she's holding up the roof of the world, keepin' the heavens from collapsing and squashin' us like bugs. She's this snow-covered beacon shining in the darkness and sparkling _so_ brightly and beautifully that it hurts to look at her––it can even blind you if you look for too long. Most people are happy to just see her there; it's enough to be aware and appreciative of her. But not all. A rare few feel a bond with her, they're linked somehow. That's why they go, they're helpless _not_ to because she's calling to them just by being who and what she is. They go in order to be one with her––even if it's just for a single, shining moment.

You don't just climb _Sagarmatha_, you _love_ her with all of your heart and soul. She looks inside of you, tests your strengths and weaknesses, reads your heart, and if you are found worthy, she lifts you up, loves you in return and gives you a glimpse of heaven. But if you're not, she shakes you loose and casts you down. Very few are worthy––and most will never catch her eye. They can beg and plead, try to force her to turn her head and take notice, but it's a waste of time. The knowledge that they'll _never_ be worthy––no matter how hard they try or how much they love her––has broken the mind and spirit of a lot of people. They will rant and rail against her till the day they die because they don't get it... they can't understand what it is that they _lack_. And every time she chooses someone else, they'll foolishly hate her just a little bit more for not loving them instead."

Faith turned her tear stained face toward Buffy, then reached out a trembling hand and softly caressed her cheek. With the dawning realization had come her own tears, and with a stroke of her thumb, Faith gently wiped them away. She then leaned in and placed a soft kiss, first on her left cheek, then on her right. Buffy sat in stunned silence and Faith simply gazed into her eyes for several more moments, a tender smile upon her lips.

"I understand them now. I understand that _Sagarmatha_ is who she is, loves who she loves. I understand that everyone has their Everest... their beacon in the darkness.

You are mine."

With that, she leaned in and pressed the gentlest of kisses to Buffy's lips. "I love you, B... always have, always will."

She then rose to her feet with fluid grace and walked slowly away.

**End**


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